The Bond of Blood
by ellethefanfictioner
Summary: It's 1997 and Klaus is beginning to find away to create his hybrid army using the Salvatore brothers as puppets under compulsion. After 16 years or danger and torment will they remember and realise what they've done before it not only effects the world but their new found family.
1. Chapter 1

It was night. The silence in the hospital was only broken by the beeping of machines as they chunked loudly over and over. A boy lay in a bed in the centre of the room his eyes closed. He was pale, his grey face contrasting with the extreme white of the sheets that made the room so horribly sterile as if he was the only living thing in it. His hair was as brown as his eyes, a deep brunette, but instead of sitting in its usual stance it hung in strands lining his pale face. He was awake but quiet; saving his strength. He lay on his back looking up at the tiled ceiling counting the tiles one two three as the world ticked strenuously by. An IV hung above him constantly dripping a burgundy liquid into his snaking veins. Morgan didn't know why they called it 'pumping' someone with drugs. The whole process was rather slow as if he was waiting by the sea expecting a tsunami to smack him in the face but only feeling the tiny lapping if waves as the advanced and retreated over his feet. The doctors had told him it would help cure the cancer. It was his blood that was infected he couldn't even feel it only knowing it's presents through the beating if his tired heart. The chemo was the only thing that made him aware of his condition. With each drop of liquid he knew he was one drop closer to death. Ultimately he knew he was going to die. He had seen the look on his mother's face when then told him how late they had discovered the cancer. He knew this gave him a disadvantage but even though the chemo could work what had he to live for, his baby sister? He knew he would only bring her pain. Even if he didn't die today he would die of the cancer and he would be ripped away from her when she needed him the most. He understood the need for loved ones so early in life he only wished he'd had the family his sister would have. With a teen mother and an absent father Morgan hadn't been surrounded with such a unit.

Morgan read the poster on the back of the door for the thousandth time. Coughs and sneezes spread diseases he recited in his head as if he thought that maybe once it would reveal a hidden message or a sign something to force him to hang onto the life that was dripping away from him. He looked up from the poster as three people entered the room. His doctor a shabby man in his mid-fifties who looked as though he had had an accident with hair jell as if he'd grasped his hair in a moment of anger and it had never flattened since. The grey mattered mass stuck out at odd angles but he looked quirky giving Morgan a slither of hope. He liked I think the man was some sort of mad scientist. He had the look, but Morgan knew the truth, he only told himself that in the hope that he may have been mad enough to create a cure for cancer. Behind him a man and a heavily pregnant woman shuffled in both in their late twenties. The man, tall and muscular, with a tanned face creased with laughter lines which were now relaxed to reveal the fear in his face. The woman's eyes were red and her face sticky; she had been crying. The group presented themselves standing at the end of Morgan's bed. He tried to sit up to at least pretend to his mum that he wasn't as sick as he actually was to provide her with at least one facade to clutch on to but the movement made his pale chest twinge in laboured coughs. Even his arms which once had been the arms to dunk the last basket at his last championship game crumpled beneath him unearthing his pretence for all to see.

Dr Chapman eyed his mum and stepdad quickly before taking off his glasses and admitting: "your charts aren't showing any signs of progress.

He looked uneasily at the couple again as if waiting for permission to continue and then said: "we've come to the end of a long road together Morgan the fact of the matter is that if this new protocol doesn't start to work then there's not much more we can do"

Morgan looked at his mum ashamed as if he had done something to disappoint her. He knew his mum had her heart set on this new cure but even if it worked in the short term there was no certainty of knowing whether it would work in the long.  
Dr Chapman walked over to his bed and unhooked the drip of chemo.  
'We need a day to let the chemo out of your system but by tomorrow we will be able to start the new protocol.'  
Morgan didn't have the courage to look his mum in the eye but he could feel his mother's focused on him. He rolled onto his side in an attempt to be released from his mother's glare. He knew it was cruel what he was doing to her he felt it was his fault with every day that passed that he had caused his cancer.  
'Are you tired hon?' his mother managed to choke out.  
He nodded and closed his eyes. His throat was choking up. He swallowed hard but as much as he tried the ball in his throat would not move.  
With a sigh marking the end of the consultation the doctor patted his feet.  
'Don't lose hope son.'  
He nodded at his parents and the left followed. The couple looked longingly at their son. They knew he felt guilty about his disease but they couldn't push it, he just needed time to adjust that was it. What the two didn't notice was the bloody look in the stepfather's eyes as he glared I a longing stare at the blood as it fell in taunting drips. Morgan's mum turned around feeling the strong arm around her shoulders tense. As she looked into her husband's face she only saw tears unaware of who or what he really was. She moved her head in the direction of the door and they shuffled awkwardly out the same way they came in.


	2. Chapter 2

It was almost three in the morning when Cameron Thomas entered the abandoned Front Royal Hotel. It had taken him a while to comfort his wife after his stepsons consultation and even longer to feel comfortable enough himself to leave her alone. He'd made the lame excuse of needing to get some air but no one disappeared outside hospitals except in the movies; he guessed it would have to do, compulsion from an original vampire wouldn't really satisfy the local police.

The door scrapped off the peeling floral wall paper as he forced it rotating round and round push after push until his efforts were finally rewarded leaving him standing once again in the open lobby. The familiar musty smell of the furniture dating back from the 60s filled his nostrils; the smell was dry and thick no scent of blood. His dead heart beat fast in his chest; he didn't have the will to turn his emotions off but now he wished he had.

He made his way up the curling stairs that wound up and down either side of the circular lobby. He knew he wouldn't be coming down again. He breathed in and out. His hand searched around the bronze door knob once he reached the top. It was too late now, he would have heard him.

'Come in.' a coaxing voice invited.

Physical pulling himself through the door way and leaning on the wood behind him he stood in horrific expectation dreading what was to come.

'Mr Thomas,' the voice sounded pleased. It was almost worse this way to see your murderer welcome you in. It made the experience seem like an illusion as if the whole thing was a terrible accident. He knew was going to die and he wanted to die quickly.

'Sit down.' The voice commanded.

He obeyed sitting on a wooden chair in the centre of the room. It was the only furniture in the apartment the only exception being a brown leather couch that sat directly in front. His host was relaxing on it his legs stretched out in front and his arms folded across his chest. It wasn't until he sat down that he noticed the other two people in the room. A woman, tall and dark with brown hair curled into ringlets that slithered down her back was stood on the right hand side of the couch and coming out of the shadows a man pale in his complexion with a concentrated look of disgust that made him seem like he didn't want to be there.

'Stefan come, meet our guest.'

As if in reply the man bowed his head and strode forward. The man on the couch stood up now. He contrasting from the other two. They seemed strained in their expressions however his face was creased with a smile. For Klaus his smile almost always meant for the certainty of a good time, for him that was. For Cameron, he knew this was an act.

'How have you been? Good I hope.' He stood up unexpectedly and began to walk in a waltz like fashion about the chair. His head whipped round with a sudden look of rage.

'Answer!' he commanded his eyes reaching into the depths of Cameron's soul.

'Yes Klaus.' He looked straight ahead.

'Good. And you son, Max is it?'

'My stepson, Morgan.'

'Ahh yes. How is he?'

'Sick.'

'But you laced the new protocol with your blood?'

'I did.'

'Well then don't look so terrified. He will be fine eventually. Your blood will cure him.'

'I know' Cameron replied.

'I'm glad you know. I hope that means you know what I have to do today as well. The terms of our agreement have expired.'

Being compelled to stay still all he could so was cry with pain as klaus produced a knife from his jean pocket and slit his writs.

'You understand then that my blood was merely a lone?'

Cameron wondered if he was trying to prove a point by doing this or whether it was only for his enjoyment.

'Wait no' Cameron cried struggling in his invisible bonds his eyes glowing yellow the vines in his hands darkening. Appearing not to have notice klaus sat back down still with the smug look on his face that made him seem proud of what he had done and was about to do.

Stefan who had been standing to the side his hands folded expectantly behind his back produced a wooden spear from behind his back and tossed it to Klaus. He lazily performed tricks with it circling it around and balancing it from hand to hand taunting Cameron with his own death.

'And why is it that I must wait?' He glared expectantly. 'We have come to the end of out deal have we not?'

'My wife is pregnant'

Klaus' pretence dropped in that moment from a cocky smirk to a wrathful scowl.

'What did you say' voice hoarse.

'My wife is pregnant'

Klaus strode forward scraping Cameron's shirt in his hand and pulling him out of the chair. Cameron could almost smell the desperation to learn the truth in his breath.

His voice was now cold his eyes narrow staring into his. 'Tell me the truth now, is this baby yours?'

'Yes klaus'

'Was it conceived while you were living as my guinea pig while my blood flowed though your veins?'

'Yes Klaus' his voice shook.

Klaus' hand extended and Cameron flew across the room smacking against the was unearthing pockets of dust.

Through the grey mist klaus' scowling face emerged. He was angry.

'You think this changes anything?' He roared 'You think this releases you from our agreement?'

'No but...'

Klaus intervened crouching down next his face. 'Then I intend to carry out the terms of the deal.' he whispered.

And with that he flipped the wood in his hand so that the point was facing Cameron and without a second though plunged the spear into his heart. Cameron's look of surprised was encrusted into his face as his veins seized up and he became white. His last feeling was as if his whole body had been squeezed like a cloth in a wrack but it was all over so quickly that he barely had time to react to what was happening.

Klaus stood up and retreated to the couch sitting down and sighing heavily. Killing was strenuous work. He paused for thought and then gestured his hand to the corpse. Stefan immediately responded and slung the body over his shoulder and left the room. The girl moved towards klaus cautiously and knelt down in front of him. She placed her warm hands on his cold and squeezed them.

'Do you think he was telling the truth?' She asked looking up at him with her large brown eyes.

'Yes Greta, he was compelled.'

'Then the baby is'

'A werewolf'

'It could be a vampire as well, your blood is both'

'It couldn't be, vampires can't procreate'

'But hybrids can'

The couple stood up. Greta slipped her hands up and down his arms breathing in his scent. 'What would you have me do?'

'The stepson, I want you to turn him.'

'How?' She replied still resting on his chest.

Klaus gently pulled her off him keeping his hands around her at arms distance still so that she could hear him whisper.

'I want you to spell an old friend of ours' klaus pulled her close once again this time kissing her head and feeling his hand through her hair. He looked determinedly ahead. Staring into nothingness

'Damon Salvatore.'


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness tried to engulf the sprouting skyscrapers of LA, but the lights that never sleeping shone like a beacon ever through. LA was a haven for the famous, god's new found paradise for hopeful; it wasn't called the city of angles for nothing. Bright lights and big names, was that what he was here for? He had no idea anymore. Almost three hundred years had pretty much exhausted any plans for the future; this was his time now. With no one to care for and no one to care for him he was free of judgement and free from disappointment. In his eyes no emotion meant no consequences, so as he strutted down the streets of LA his hands in his pockets and his head high the traffic bombarding his thoughts like a storm meaning he couldn't distinguish one voice form another. It didn't matter it was only one sound he needed to hear at a time like this and he could hear it loud and clear. It the only thing loud enough to penetrate that storm and it was drunken squeals of orange faced, flammable haired girls. This only meant one thing, venerable prey.  
This was prime feeding time. As soon as sun went down and the stars came out so did the vampires and Damon wasn't going to be an exception. He made his way past vibrantly lit up club after club but he didn't want to be in on the action he wanted the aftermath. He wasn't going to stay in the city for long he was headed for the suburbs. The music and lights stopped almost as soon as they had started and it felt to him as though he had passed with in minute from one world into another.  
He stopped. Walking slower now and looking behind him to see if there were any witnesses he slipped into the darkness sitting in an alleyway out of the way of prying eyes. He lowered himself onto the floor spreading his legs out in front of him and crossing them over. As he rested his head onto the cold grey brick wall behind him he laid his hands on his stomach as if he were as relaxed as when he was watching TV.  
He waited there expectantly until he heard the sound he had been waiting for; the high pitched giggles split the silence in the air and he sprang up. Three girls each of them wearing short body contouring dresses stopped in their high heeled tracks as they noticed a tall dark man standing squarely in front of them.

'Evening ladies.' He crooned politely at them. 'How are you tonight?'

The girls seemed appalled looking at each other with wary glares and probably thinking he was high or drunk and merely strutted forward in an attempt to push past him. To the first girls horror Damon appeared in her face three steps further forward appearing to be trying to stop them. His mouth opened in a strained stance revealing two long sharp fangs but none of the girls were alive long enough to react with more than a scream because no sooner as he had snapped the neck of the first he sprang at the other two who let out a moaning tortured cry and pulling them around with their arms behind he pulled their heads unnaturally back until the terrified sound was no more and the bodies dropped limply at his feet. He stood catching his breath about to drop down to the dirty floor and puncture the now still flow of rich liquor that he could smell from the veins of his victims but he stopped suddenly halfway to the ground as his ears picked up the clicking of heals on the pavement. He swiftly flew round kneeling protectively over his prey. Looking up with red blood thirsty eyes Damon saw a woman tall and dark with brown hair that curled into ringlets that slithered down her back. He stood up calming down realising the supernatural spark in her deep eyes; he didn't think he had anything to fear.

'How did I guess that I would find a vampire up at this time?'

Damon's entire face transformed into a confident smirk of appeal and slunk forward. 'It may not be a surprise to you but it is to me why a beautiful woman like you is wondering around at this time of night alone.'

'I can take care of myself.' She said bluntly closing her eyes. When she opened them two red glaring beacons pierced through the night.

'I understand.' said Damon flirting. 'So how can I be of service to you mam?'

'The smell of blood brought me this way but it seems that you beat me to it.' she looked down as if she was hard done by looking up into Damon's bright eccentric eyes excited by his kill.

'I did indeed it's the killer instinct you see.'

'Are you suggesting that I don't possess such talent?'

Damon defended his words immediately. 'No certainly not, merely that two creatures so alike in taste should not be competing for a meal. Come help yourself.'

She strode cautiously forward to the hanging piece of meat that Damon held up by the back of its neck. Their faces crept closer together and upon seeing his new acquaintances lips close around the girls pale neck he registered her satisfaction and piercing his teeth into the flesh felt the warm liquid rush around his tongue. High on the taste of blood he sucked with all his thirst like a parched man drinking water for the first time in months. Stepping back and looking with pride at the woman's greedy smirk blood dripping from his mouth; he enjoyed the sweet aftertaste. The pair stood very close he could feel her breath on his own neck the suspense of the moment bringing them closer together. His breaths grew shorter and more frequent as he leant in but his efforts were not however rewarded with a kiss but the excitement of darkness as his vision fled him and his legs betrayed him and his head lolled onto her shoulder. She caught him in her surprisingly string arms. Pushing him off herself onto the floor and picking up one of his ankles she dragged the Damon into the night.


End file.
